Bleeding Out
by Galreans Lament
Summary: Harry Potter won a war,but in victory he discovered he had no reason to fight.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer:The characters and fictional locations are the property of J.K.R. I do not own anything.If I did they would have more slash. ;)

Warning!:This story will contain slash,non-consensual situations,child abuse,violence,spelling errors,and my poor attempt at a plot.If you don't want to add any of the above to the things you must cope with in a day then go find something else to read.

Chapter 1:Who Knows?

The dungeons at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were shadowed tunnels of flickering torch light. Empty, echoing damp corridors abandoned for the freedom of summer by the students who loathed them the rest of the year. Abandoned by all but one midnight garbed mage who found his pains surcease in these dark and quiet spaces he alone cherished.   
  
Severus Snape bent over his desk scribbling away at a piece of parchment.The flickering light from the candelabra beside him playing with the shadows surounding him.His life, among many others, hung on the words he inscribed here. His statement to the Ministry of Magic on the past weeks events. Events that had lead to the celebrated end of an unacknowledged war. Now Severus and his informants and fellow saboteurs who had fought for the Light from the depths of the Dark faced trial and imprisonment. It was Albus Dumbeldor and the Order of the Phoenix that stood between them and the wrath of the Wizarding world.   
  
So Severus bent now in his shadowed rooms employing all his eloquence to sway a Ministry that cared little for truth, seeking instead a whipping boy to throw before the public.  
  
A whispered rustle near his door brought his head up, hand clutching wand now instead of quill. No one, just an empty door way. But he did not lower his wand or his guard. He had not survived two wars as a double agent without a healthy paranoia.   
  
"Show yourself. Now"   
  
Severus' tone was controlled and cold. As his voice always was, as cold as the mask his face wore for the world.  
  
A hand appeared in the air beside him, reaching up to pull back the deep hood of a cloak that shimmered into visibility as it slid from the slim form and shifted to the floor.  
  
Now Harry Potter stood there clad in overlarge nightclothes, alabaster, delicate, his emerald eyes shadowed with dark emotion. Severus' mask almost slipped at the sight. Almost. Severus was surprised to see the boy. He had understood the boy would be staying with Remus Lupin, Last of the Marauders. He had seen the boy depart for the train with the other students after the Leaving Feast.  
  
He had assumed he would spend his summer with the other Order members. Attending the banquets and celebrations in his honor. Basking in the hero worship the Wizarding world held for the Boy Who Saved Us. Huh, silly name. So, why the hell was he sneaking around Hogworts in that blasted cloak?   
  
"Potter,"   
  
The same cold empty tone. Severus lowered his wand.   
  
"It may have escaped your notice but the war is over. Your enemies are all dead, insane, or imprisoned. Myself excepted of course."   
  
Sarcasm. Sneer.   
  
" Additionally, you have completed your seventh year, you are no longer a student. You are not bound by the student curfew. I therefore fail to see why you are still snooping about this school. Is it just an addiction, a habit you are unable to control? After seven years of breaking rules and spying on your 'evil potions master' you can't stop even though every excuse to do so has expired? Even if the rules governing students no longer apply to you?"   
  
Severus again wondered briefly why the boy was still at Hogwarts. The train had left yesterday; Albus had said nothing about Potter returning.   
  
Potter just stood there blinking at him, Severus was readying another volley of sharp words at the boy, when said boy lifted his wand and with a few quiet words bound the now shocked Potions Master to his chair.  
  
"Potter, what the Bloody Hell-"   
  
The rest of his indignant protest was cut of by another softly spoken word from Harry.  
  
_"Silencio"_   
  
Severus found his vocal cords unresponsive. Not for the first time, Severus found himself afraid of The Boy Who Lived. He had seen glimpses over the years of something very dark in the boy. Heard him shout the darkest of curses without the reluctance one would expect from the Champion of the Light. Even, on a few occasions, wondered if he was even in the right house, the boy could be very Slytherin. Now he had bound and silenced his most hated Professor. That, Severus felt, was rather worrisome.   
  
"Yes, Professor, the war is over. Still, you should not have lowered your guard. Or your wand. I had thought more of you."  
  
Harry smiled. It was not a happy smile, nor a sad one. It gave the impression of the lips of a corpse pulled back from its teeth in rigor mortis. It was disturbing, and macabre. Yes, Severus decided, worry was appropriate at this point.   
  
"It's all done now, I did it. I killed him. Everyone can go on with their lives, now."   
  
Harry's voice was soft but just as cold as any Severus had ever employed to scorn him.  
  
Harry reached down to the fallen cloak searching its folds for something. As he straitened Severus saw the sharp skittering glint of candle light on steel. Those eyes rose to meet his again. As his former student pointed the long thin blade in his small hand at Severus' chest.   
  
**" Did you know?"**  
  
Harry began advancing toward his helpless teacher.  
  
Severus just blinked at him. Did he know what? Damn it! Harry was now most defiantly scaring the hell out of him. And he had no notion what the boy was talking about, not to mention he was silenced with no way to respond. Harry correctly interpreted his look of confusion and continued.  
  
" Dumbledor knew, how could he not? Poppy knew by necessity, not something you could hide from a medi-witch.Dumbledor swore her to secrecy, but still,how unethical of her. Remus didn't know for sure, but he suspected, and did nothing. They never cared. I want to know if you knew too. Or guessed, My dirty little secrets, Their dirty little secrets."   
  
Harry was now standing directly in front of Severus. He locked eyes with the older man as he slid the tip of the dagger between his high collar and the sensitive skin of his neck.  
  
"Did you know? Did you go along with Dumbledor because of what Black and my father did to you?"  
  
Here he leaned in until his lips were brushing Severus' ear.  
  
"And I don't mean those lies Dumbledor wove for them. I mean what really happened in the Shack."  
  
Severus paled, though his normal pallor hardly revealed his distress. Did the boy really know? How would he use this information against Severus? He felt the cold of despair seize him, his soul writhe within him. Against his neck he felt the warm breaths of the boy who could be the twin of another young man. A man who had hurt, humiliated, and broken Severus for sport. Alongside those warm breaths the cold slide of steel. He wished nothing more at that moment then to end, be unmade, not to live his nightmare again. But he was still bound in silence, he could neither question nor answer, cry for help nor beg for mercy.  
  
His heart beat so hard it nearly shook his thin form. Fear. **NO!** Not again.  
  
What a fool he. To fear what could not be stopped. Useless adrenaline flooded his blood. How long, he wondered, before Potter would be whipping his blood off his young hands in disgust as his father once had done.  
  
"Finite Incantium"   
  
Potter whispered the counter charm releasing Severus from his cocoon of silence, though he was still tied by invisible cords. Severus was shocked by this.Brought back to the present by this unexpected return of his voice, he was able to regain some control of his demons.  
  
**"Did. You. Know.?"  
**  
The boy was now very close, his legs almost touching the Potion Masters knees as he stood over him.  
  
"Know what?"  
  
Severus voice was steady. But quiet, with no sarcasm or ice. That would speak volumes to any who knew him; he had lost neither even once in the war. But he had not been afraid then.  
  
"The Truth. The Secrets. The Lies "  
  
Potters voice was still flint and steel. Cold now, but ready to spark to flame if given proper fuel.  
  
Severus felt he was trapped in some bazaar parody of conversation. Either he had lost his skills of communication or Potter was insane. He suspected the latter.  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
And with those words the boy in front of him sank to him knees before his former teacher. His head seemed to heavy for his slender neck and came forward to rest on the lap of the 'greasy git of a potions master'.   
  
"You didn't know." Not a question.   
  
The voice soft now, sad and lost.  
  
Severus lent as far as his bonds allowed, bending down to try and glimpse his face.  
  
"Know what? Tell me."


	2. Memory Lane

Chapter 2: Memory Lane  
  
_"Know what? Tell me."_  
  
"No." Harry whispered into the dark folds of Severus' robes, his head still resting on his former teachers lap.  
  
"No, I have no wish to tell you. Your knowing now would make no difference."  
  
He sighed softly.   
  
"I came here to take something from you, or give you something, depending."   
  
Severus opened his mouth but before he could give voice to any of the questions flying through his mind Harry continued.  
  
"Don't speak" Harry said firmly. "I have things to say. I-I may not be quite rational."   
  
He laughed with bitter mirth. The laughter ended abruptly, and he lifted those terrible eyes to meet Severus'.   
  
" I have things to say. Don't speak. In that last battle, when I met minds with Voldemort we tore at each other, mind to mind. That was when I learned who I was. What I was to the Order. To Dumbledore. Do you know how many times I had been Obliviated?" Harrys voice softly questioned. These statements and the question made Severus feel slightly ill. He knew Harry was a tool, a weapon Albus used, just as he had used Severus himself. Harry however had been a child when the Headmaster began using him, and no one bothered to inform the boy of the machinations of the beloved old man. No one had told Harry he was a tool, a weapon. It had sickened Severus, the way the Headmaster let Harry face Voldemort or his minions every year. The man knew everything that happened in Hogworts, yet Harry was left to fight alone, Albus always on the sideline encouraging and providing just enough assistance for the child to continue to the next battle. The Potion Master knew his place and worth, when he had sold himself to the Order as a spy he was an adult well versed in manipulation and wars reality. Harry never had a clue. Stupid boy.  
  
Obliviated Harry said, how far had the old bastard gone to forge his hero?   
  
"No, I know of no instance of Obliviation concerning you." Severus was slowly reestablishing emotional equilibrium. Analyze, observe, then act, he told himself. Something is very wrong.   
  
Harry was speaking again. "I didn't know of any either, until He tore through my memories, shattered barriers, and I remembered. It almost drove me mad. Or I am mad, perhaps. It was not the battle that left me so long in the Hospital Wing, destroying him drained me greatly, yes, but it was the work of another that left my mind broken. No, my mind was never whole, so it could hardly break. To find I had been altered to suite, bits and pieces of my mind erased, changed, added. Then all the lies unraveled, and I knew all that had been taken. Trust, love, hope. Those are lost to me.   
  
I didn't confront them, no point really. They are as bad as Voldemort. I hate…never mind. You know better then me. You," Harry gave a slightly hysterical giggle. "you are the only one I trust at all. The only one left who matters.   
  
I went with Remus, to his house. He said it was my home. I tried, playing house, playing family, but it was too empty. Too forced. It doesn't really matter anymore anyway. The war is over. I don't have to be The Boy Who Lived or Harry Potter or…anything. Perhaps that is why Dumbledore did not rape my mind again. I have no more use to him. His war is won.  
  
I wanted to know, if Remus knew. I used Legilimency. I ripped Voldemorts mind apart. Tore his soul. He couldn't stop me. Remus was easy, he's not even an Occlumens. That's how I know he guessed. But as I explored his mind I found something else, it was hard to understand at first. He had been a wolf when it was happening so the memories were the wolfs.   
  
Harry looked into the Potion Masters eyes, and past them into his mind. To the memory that matched the one Remus had already relived that night. Severus was no longer in his office, he was no longer Severus Snape the feared Potion Master. Harry seized his mind, and took him into the darkness of his own mind.   
  
_He was back in the Shrieking Shack. He was the young slytherin student he barley remembered now. Full of ambition and plans. He was there because Sirius Black had promised the answer to the mystery surrounding Remus Lupin. Severus never could overcome his curiosity.   
_  
Curiosity killed the cat.   
  
_Severus face pressed onto the moldering boards of the floor. It was rotting, cold and slick. His wrists were tied to his ankles; left to left, right to right. His robes had been torn from him leaving red abrasions on his skin where seams had resisted before being cut.   
_  
_Serverus was fascinated by his own fear. The sour twist of it in his bowels causing him to lean forward as far as his bonds would allow. He did not try to stifle it but rather enfolded himself within it. He had never faced it before. This secret. This was a memory that he had forever shied from, being forced to relive those hateful hours was a release. Never had he spoken of this. Never had anyone __spoken of it to him. Not that many knew. It was like having his veins opened. He felt like some poison in him was bleeding away.  
_  
sa_Tears seeped from his eyes, squeezed tightly shut as he tried to block out the loathsome feel of Blacks hands on his restrained limbs. Black ran his fingers over the rough ropes and up his left arm to his shoulder then down his back to the swell of his ass." So, soft" Black murmured. He raised his hand and brought it down sharply, the crack of flesh against flesh and the red hand print left behind on the pale cheek elicited a moan from Black but even though surprised Severus made no noise save a sharp exhalation. Now fingers pushed against him, forcing there way into his body, stretching the tight ring of muscle. Touching him were no other ever had. "Your not a fucking virgin are you, Snivy? Bloody hell, Pete, I think our little snake has been_ _saving himself for us." Gleeful taunts followed by pain. Pain as Black pretended at the courtesy of preparation. Not one or two fingers, no, Black would not give him that kindness but forced three into him moaning again at the tightness.  
_  
_"Ohhh!, do you like that Snake?" He whispers in Severus ear as he brings them out only to push in again. "Merlin, your fucking tight. Come on slut scream for me. Scream!" He is quite a bit bigger then Severus, the slytherin was thin, too thin even, his bones showing clearly under his skin. Otherwise it was the body of a scholar, soft and pale. Black was an athlete, years of sports and an active life gave him muscle any young man his age would envy. The force of his thrusts rocked the smaller boys body and traces of blood were now slicking his fingers. Insults and vulgar taunts continued along with the occasional slap and pinch. Silent tears ran down Severus nose to the slimy boards as Black reached under him to roughly fondle his cock in a sick parody of a lovers caress.   
_  
_Finally Black tired of that, he freed his already leaking cock from his pants and began forcing himself into his classmate, gripping the smaller boys shoulder to keep him in place. Without lubrication beyond Severus' blood and Blacks pre-cum, the slytherin could not suppress a whimper, it felt as though he was being impaled. Blacks prick was heavy inside him, a painful pulsing weight. Once fully seated, his balls resting against his victims, Black wasted no more time, stabbing himself into the smaller boy hard and fast. Gripping Severus brusingly at the hips, pulling him forcefully back into each thrust. Severus screamed.  
_  
Severus felt himself shift. He was no longer on that damp floor being abused and broken. Opening his eyes he found himself looking at the rape which he had only moments ago been reliving. Beside him stood Harry watching with dead eyes.  
  
_Black finished with a shouted curse. Pulling out, he lay down beside Severus breathing hard as Peter Pettigrew moved forward to have his turn. As Pettigrew began jerking his hips, thrusting into Severus and whispering to the bound boy how much he was enjoying it, Black pulled Severus' head back by his shoulder length black hair. Staring intently at his tear stained face as he was rocked back and forth by Peter. He seemed to like what ever he saw in the Slytherins expression. Black yanked his head further back claiming his mouth in a violent and hateful kiss leaving blood on bruised lips, moving then to bite hard at the pale throat. Reaching down he began to fondle himself, already beginning to harden again. On the other side of the room James Potter stood in the guise of a stag, keeping the werewolf Lupin had become with the rising of the moon at bay.   
_  
Severus watched as his younger self was ravaged. The boy he had been was pathetic in his jaded eyes. To have come at the invitation of a known enemy, to have been taken so easily, stupid pathetic boy. He viewed his previous self, pale and weak, with disgust. Then the image before him blurred and when again he could focus it was changed. Everything was the same, same people, same actions. Now, however, colors were fainter, scents and sounds sharper and the angle different. He was looking past James Potters animagus form to his younger self. He realized he was seeing Remus' memory of the same night. He could sense the rage and blood lust of the werewolf. He could smell the fear and pain and blood. He could feel the wolfs instincts twisting around his mind. He was unmanned by the revelation that the monster he had feared for so long had never been a danger. Now that he experienced Lupins memory of that night he new the true targets of the beasts rage. Lupin was not being restrained from attacking Severus by Potter. He could feel the wolfs rage, and that rage was focused on Black, Pettigrew, and Potter. He saw his younger self through the eyes of the creature he feared. He saw not the pathetic trembling fool from his own memory but a fragile, beautiful boy. In this memory he seemed to be the only clear image, everything else around him fading and meaningless. Lupins mind held an image of him filled with emotions, scents, and images both passionate and desperate. Lupin wanted to save him.

Black was now taking Potters place becoming the large black dog that looked so like a Grim. Potter walking lazily toward the limp and bloodied boy on the other side of the room. Lupins frustration burned though him and the wolf made a lunge at the black dog barring his way. Black struggled briefly with the smaller wolf before pinning him by his throat. Severus suddenly realized Harry was still beside him when the younger man spoke.  
  
"I can't undo what was done. I wish I could. I wish…never mind. Wishing is for fools and children. I can't save you from my father, but I can give you this. Lupin wanted to save you. You were worth more to him then them. This memory, though that of a beast, is the truth of that night. You lost nothing to those bastards, they lost everything. They became nothing the minute they touched you."   
  
With another twist of perception they were again in Severus office.   
  
Harry talked softly into the soft fabric his head still rested on. "I came here because you are the last. I wanted to know if you knew, but you don't."  
  
Severus finally remembered his voice, his words.  
  
"The last?"   
  
Harry leaned back, lifting his head from the lap of his former professor, settling back on the heels of his bare feet.  
  
He looked up at Severus, the candlelight sending shadows dancing across his pale skin. Severus' breath caught in his throat at the image the boy made just then. Fragile, thin, so small for a 17 yr. old, skin semi-transparent, and his eyes…His eyes were despair. He was the image of war, beautiful and terrible. And bloody.  
  
Severus watched the red rivulets run down Harry's arms in confusion for a moment before he realized what he was seeing. As Severus had been inventing poetic descriptions for him, Harry had been slitting his wrists with the dagger that so recently had kissed Snapes throat. Harry's arms were lade open from wrist to elbow, long deep slices exposing muscle and near his hand where the flesh was thin a sickening white glint of bone.  
  
Severus found he had no words. He had always loved words, fitting them together in his mind. Selecting just the right combination either to help or hurt. But as he looked now at the boy before him he had none.  
  
Harry was losing blood fast, beginning to sway. He slumped backwards, his knees still bent beneath him, arms falling at his sides. Terror burned through Severus as he watched Harry fall. He fought against the magic restraining him without effect.  
  
" Harry!" His cry was filled with pain and desperation.  
  
A crack echoed in the dark room and Severus raised his head to meet large green eyes. A house elf stood next to Harrys still form.  
  
"Don't just stand there you bloody fool, release me!" Severus bellowed at the elf who seemed frozen at the sight before it.  
  
With a snap of it's fingers Severus could move freely again. He lunged from his chair, kneeling unheeding in the pool of blood.   
  
" Wand, I need my wand" He called franticly. No sooner did he turn to search his dest then the elf was pressing it in to his palm. He murmured spells desperate to stop the blood. Calling orders to the elf, bottles of potions and salves administered with shaking hands.   
  
" We have to get him to Poppy" Snape said. Gathering the slight boy in his arms in perpetrating of rushing to the hospital wing.  
  
" Master Snape, sir, Dobby is not thinking Master Harry would be safest at Hogworts, sir. Dobby is worried about some things he hears, sir. Master Snape will take Master Harry away, right now. Dobby will keep Master Dumbledore from knowing." Dobby the house elf said all this in one breath while pulling Severus by his robe toward the unlit fire place.  
  
"What are you talking about, elf?" Severus was as close to tears as he had been in fifteen years at this latest turn in what was already the worst night he could remember.   
  
"Master Snape will go now, go anywhere, take care of Master Harry. Dobby will find you later." Dobby said holding a bowl of floo powder out to Severus and starting the fire with a snap.   
  
Snape look at the elf and then the too light burden he cradled in his arms. Everything Harry had said that night replaying quickly in his mind.   
  
"Toss the powder in for me, elf" As soon as Dobby had complied he steped into the green flames calling out "Snape Manor"  
  
He would do what he could to heal Harry, and then make him explain what the hell was going on. Then, if circumstances warranted, he would kill whoever was responsible for this bloody night. Perhaps he would get very drunk too.


	3. The Art of Lying

Chapter 3: The Art of Lying  
  
Soot and ashes erupted from the seldom used fireplace in the unlit study of a neglected manor house. The dark cloud swirled about the dusty room adding another layer of grim to the furnishings. A cough followed by a heroic sneeze issued from the stooped man exiting the grate in the clouds wake.Severus sneezed again, his eyes watering from the soot and deposited his burden on a ash covered sofa. He produced a black handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped the worst of the grim from his face and neck. He paused, uncertain for a moment, looking down on the unconscious boy. Harry's face was soot streaked and his clothes blackened on one side, the side that had not been resting against Severus chest. With an abrupt exhalation from his nose Severus knelt and carefully wiped the dark powder from the pale skin. Harry made no response, laying limp and silent. Severus looked up, his gaze wandering the room in dissatisfaction. Whispers could be heard from the portraits on the wall, to old and faded to make out there subjects. One wall was dominated by a vast glass case filled with decks of cards, intricate links of rings, saws, and knives. Other things less recognizable. A muggle magicians cabinet. This was his fathers study. The dark antique desk facing away from the rooms only window. Papers were scattered across the top, yellowed and illegible. A high, cold chair sat behind the desk, it's brocade seat rotted the stuffing spilling to the decade rugs.  
  
"Bloody, bloody hell."

Severus murmured closing his eyes briefly before rising and turning to the closed door at the left of the room. He opened it with some caution, giving every indication he felt something might be waiting on the other side. Nothing was. He returned to the couch again gently lifting the slight boy and carrying him from the room. The hall he stepped into was dark, along both sides objects draped in white rotting clothes line the walls under portraits silenced by heavy curtains. Some of the sheets had begun to disintegrate revealing tantalizing glimpses of the artifacts beneath. Severus gave the darkened space a quick once over before proceeding down the shadowed hall with a brisk but wary walk. This _was _Snape Manor after all. A long empty Snape Manor at that, Merlin knew what might be lose in here. The Snape family was both ancient and infamous, a line that counted within its ranks both unprecedented geniuses and unparalleled madmen. Severus Snape was the last of his bloodline and often uncertain into which category he fell. The Manor was the work of one of his forefathers that had inarguably fallen into the latter. Once a stately and elegant old manor house, Silurian Snape had "renovated" it. The manor followed no logical plan, in fact logic seemed to be the last thing considered in its reconstruction. It was a labyrinth, literally. If you didn't know it well you could become lost for days, or dead, depending on which wrong turn you took. Varied and bazaar were the architectural travesties visited upon the old manor house, yet the Snape family had continued habitation for all these many years, generations growing up in the tangled halls that many felt reflected the minds of the eccentric bloodline. Those generations had added to the manor, both above ground and below. Adding to the maze of rooms, stareways, and halls. The old pureblood line had also horded books and artifacts. Light or dark, fair or foul, magical or muggle until the manor resembled a labyrinthine museum of curiosities.

  
  
Severus now traversed his childhood home traveling deeper into the lower corridors, finally reaching the room he was seeking he pushed open the heavy door revealing a long abandon potions lab. Dust and cobwebs covered the once immaculate workspace. This room was where, long before the Sorting Hat choose his house, Severus Snape discovered potions. This room was were he had mastered them. By the time his letter arrived from Hogwarts he was creating potions of his own design. A child prodigy. Not that anyone knew. He had rarely left the manor as a child, his youth marked by isolation, silence, and his fathers slow insanity. And Potions.  
He laid Harry carefully on one of the work tables. He looked closely at his face, pulled open one eye, examined his wrists. When he was satisfied he turned to take in the room. The room was just as he left it many years ago, the last time he had employed it in the service of the Dark Lord. Many of the ingredients had by now spoiled, rotting unused in their jars and casks. He hoped some were still usable. Harry was in need of a blood replenishing draft, pain relief and doubtless a calming potion. He wished for his potions cupboard at Hogwarts, as he set about cleaning one of the tables. As he worked he forced himself forget everything that had transpired earlier, focusing solely on the task at hand. After clearing a workspace for himself he began looking through the jars for the components he would need. Finding this spoiled, that eaten by rats, and that hatched and doubtless leading a rewarding life somewhere in the manor walls, revising and reworking what to make and how he could with what was still viable. This would be a challenge to even his skill. Not a challenge he could not overcome however. Had he not taught Neville Longbottom potions for five years? _He_ had taught the Weasley Twins! Without one student death or permanent disfigurement . This was nothing.  
He was just removing the last caldron from the burner to cool when he heard the chime that signaled someone arriving by floo. He had forgotten the chime. It played Three Blind Mice when someone flooed in.

Merlin knew why.

  
No one knew he was here. No one should be here. No one came here. They would have arrived in the study as he had, it was the only open floo. Better to find them then have them find him. Or try to anyway. No one but a Snape could navigate the manor. He looked over his potions once more and checked on Harry. The boy should remain stable until his return. He again entered the hall with caution and began the bothersome journey back to his fathers study.  
  
As Severus came around a corner into the hall that held the room he was seeking he spotted his guest. In magenta and lime robes, peaking under the cloth covering one of the many curiosities hidden in this house was Albus Dumbledore. Severus stopped, unsure of how to proceed. Did Albus know he had Harry here? Well, why else would the man be there? When Albus demanded the boys return what then? Severus was unsure if he was willing to defy this man in person on the confused mumblings of a troublesome boy and the advise of a house elf. It was one thing to hide Harry from Albus until he awoke, quite another to fight Albus for the boy. No, he would relinquish the child and be done with this blasted night, and get drunk.  
  
Good. Fine.  
  
It was unfair that he felt ashamed of his decision. It was unfair he felt guilty.  
He set off down the hall to meet the elder wizard just as Albus straitened from his examination.  
  
"Severus, I am surprised to have found you here."

He really did not sound surprised. His eyes did not twinkle.

"Then I must ask Albus, if you did not expect me to be here to find, why is it here for me you are looking?"

Severus replied, carefully reapplying his legendary mask.  
  
"Ah! That is an odd story my boy."

Albus was looking closely at Severus, watching his face as he spoke.

" You see, when I tried to send a house elf to fetch you. The elf, Dobby I believe, told me you were no longer at Hogwarts. When I enquired where you might have gone he said he did not know, but he was sure you had not gone home. He insisted in fact you could not be at Snape Manor. When I was unable to locate you elsewhere I thought perhaps his unprompted insistence you where not here was confirmation that this is where you had vanished to.  
I wonder why you did not inform me, Severus?"

Albus said all this conversationaly and yet his eyes held a trace of suspicion.  
  
"With the conclusion of hostilities I saw no need for such communication Headmaster. I am no longer operating as an agent of the Order, nor are my services as a scholar or Potion Master presently required in expedience. I thought I once again carried the title of teacher only, so have conducted my personal affairs accordingly. It is holiday after all."

Severus answered calmly.  
  
"Why did you instruct the house elf to keep it secret then, I must assume from it's behavior you did so?"

Albus still maintained a tone of light questioning.  
  
"I did not. I did request that the knowledge of my departure and present location be kept confidential. I have grown weary of reporters and Ministry persons hounding my steps. Questions and accusations have driven me to flight from my habitual haunts."

Severus had meant to hand the damn boy over, but the Headmaster had not mentioned him yet, and the Potion Master deduced he did not know Harry was there. Albus was suspicious, but not because he had a reason to be. Rather he had no information and that was why he was suspicious. Severus let his mask slip a fraction, allowing the exhaustion, pain and confusion he was experiencing from his earlier encounter with Harry to show on his face. Use what you have. Make the lie truth and it will be believed.

"You know that I am a privet man Albus. I have never liked being looked at, being watched. I rather would that no one knew my part in this bloody play and I could hide behind the curtain now that my scene is finished. I hate the cry of encore from the crowd. I did not mean for the elf to keep this from you, but my orders were admittedly rather vague. I simply wished to escape all the eyes upon me. What other reason to come here? You are aware of my distaste for my family home."

He allowed a little more weariness to show as he slumped against the wall and gestured to their surroundings. It seem to satisfy the older wizard, at least he stopped scrutinizing his Professor of Potions and turned his attention to the surroundings. Lying had never bothered Severus. He felt it was an act of creation, like painting or potion making, an art. He had been after all a duplicitus acolyte of two great enemies, the delicate art of truth, half truth, and falsehood kept him alive and free.  
  
"Yes, you never come here. Not that I blame you Severus, it is rather…well, dark, I suppose. Speaking of dark things, it has been a tragic night and I do have need of you."

Dumbledores demeanor became more grave as he spoke.

" I know you do not appreiciate dithering over bad news, my boy. So I will tell you the facts without suger coating. This night has truly been one of lifes sour ones."

Albus heaved a sigh, set his face solumly and continued.

" The Ministry contacted me nearly an hour ago with the sad news that Remus Lupin was found dead in his home, apparently by his own hand. As tragic as this new is, I fear a graver problem overshadows it. As you know Harry Potter was staying with Remus, he has disappeared. The Ministry conducted a thorough search of the house and surrounding area to no avail. We can only guess at what took place within that house but I fear for young Harry. He is no doubt fragile and confused. I…I hesitate to say this aloud Severus. You have been a great ally to me, and I trust you implicitly; I fear Harry is not stable. I have for some time worried that the rumors regarding his mental state were more then idle gossip. Now with the death of Remus, however he died, I fear even more. Harry is quite powerful and should he turn away from his friends then I fear we could have another 'Dark Lord'."

As the Headmaster spoke he never let his eyes waver from the Potion Masters. His voice carried dramatically in the shadowed corridoor, his eyes flashing as he confided his fear. Severus almost felt like clapping, appluse surly was in order. Severus did not know what was going on, but he bloody well new when he was being manipulated. He generally allowed Albus to use him, to push him this way or that, he was accustomed to it. He did know it was happening however, and now he did care that Albus was trying to imply Harry had killed his fathers friend, the last of the Mauraders. Albus was offering the Potions Master the weapon everyone believed he wanted, a weapon that could destroy Harry Potter.

"Severus, we must find Potter. I know I can trust you in this delicate task, it is important he not be sequestered by the Ministry. However, he can not remain…unattended. Find him and bring him to Hogworts, I will determine what his needs. This need not become a public spectacle."  
  
" Of course, Headmaster"

Severus painted a pleased smirk across his mask.

"It is time the child was brought to heel. I have always maintained he needed closer watching. I assume I am permitted the use of force if he should resist?"  
  
"Whatever you deem necessary, Severus. I must return and see that things do not become…unnecessarily complicated with Remus."

"Allow me to see you to the Floo Headmaster."

Severus walked with the older man the short distance back to the study, putting on a show of reserved pleasure at his assigned task.  
  
As the famed elderly wizard was whisked away through the joined hearths of the wizarding world Severus Snape sank into the ragged embrace of one of the tattered chairs that sat before his fathers desk. He needed to feel. Analyze everything he had seen and heard since Harry had entered his office. Allow himself to experience all the emotions roiling within him. So far he had been reacting, not acting. He had to purge himself. One of the memories he had locked away in the dark corners of his mind reserved for forgetting had been forced back to the surface. But the terror was numbed, the ache of shame dulled. There was now another memory irrevocably linked to the rape. Lupin's. Remus was not going to hurt him. Had never wanted to. Remus had fought to stop his friends.

Remus was dead.

That thought sent a jolt right to his core. Remus had killed himself after reliving the same memory. After Harry had forced him to remember. Severus began shaking. This was to bloody fucking much. Remus, Harry, Dumbledore, Dobby. His mind was reeling, ricocheting off questions and emotions. He was not going to be able to purge himself until he had more answers. He needed to calm himself. Let the emotions go and think. He looked over to the case containing the muggle magic tricks. He approached and slid the glass door open, removed a deck of cards. He began shuffling them, soon the cards were dancing through his hands. Aces and Queens appearing and vanishing on his whim. Not magic, illusion. Another oddity of the Snape line. How long the family had practiced this Severus did not know. The Snapes were Pureblood wizards, wealthy, powerful. They were also magicians. Card trick, rabbit-out-of-a-hat, muggle magic magicians. Many wizards might well scoff had they known. Not many knew, those few who did just considered it another eccentricity. They did not comprehend it's usefulness. Why learn muggle tricks when they had real magic? Slight of hand was, however, a powerful tool. Illusion and misdirection could baffle the most competent wizard. Card tricks might not seem a terribly useful weapon, but apply the same skills to secret documents or vials of vertiserum. Severus had seen early in life how useful knowing "magic" could be. The knowledge had served him well, indeed there were rumors of the "wandless magic" and unknown powers of the Snape line. Smoke and mirrors had mystified and befuddled the inner circle of the Dark Lords elite. Now, as Severus let the cards move through his hands he at last felt the tension of the night ease, his mind settle. It was not until he noticed the room growing faintly brighter as the sun struggled through the begrimed windows that he realized the night was past. A new day now awaited for him. Harry Potter was in the old potions room of Snape Manor awaiting his healing drafts. Albus Dumbledore had set him the task of finding the boy hero he was hiding. Remus Lupin was dead by his own hand. And a house elf named Dobby would have the art of lying explained carefully to him as soon as Severus got his hands on him.


End file.
